A World Without Sunlight
by Roses Of Yuushi
Summary: Stories are often lost through the ages. We thirst for clarity about days passed, but some tales are better left forever banished from our collective memory. The world will be reminded of its history whether or not it consents, and the fairies shall hold the quill that writes the future. By fire we have forged our kingdom, and within the flames it shall fall. Natsu X Harem


**Story:** A World Without Sunlight

**Summary: **Stories are often lost through the ages. We thirst for clarity about days passed, but some tales are better left forever banished from our collective memory. The world will be reminded of its history whether or not it consents, and the fairies shall hold the quill that writes the future. By fire we have forged our kingdom, and within the flames it shall fall. Natsu X Harem

Natsu X Erza, (Blank), (Blank), and... (_Maybe_ Blank)

**A/N: **There will be characters from other series involved in this fic, though not all of them will have the same back stories, personalities, or abilities. You've been notified. This story (like every fan fiction ever written really) will be AU, but not... drastically so.

With that said, enjoy!

**Prologue**

The heaviness permeating the evening air was a sure sign that the land would soon be bathed in life-giving fluids. The faint auras of thousands of stars were hidden behind sheath of clouds and the only available light shone from street lamps belonging to the slumbering populace of La'Fahir. Unfortunately, the small town was directly in the path of an imminent display of mother nature's awesome power. Despite this, the townsfolk slept peacefully in their well appointed homes, comfortable in the knowledge that short of an all out siege by an entire kingdom nothing would bring them harm. As some dreamed and others did _interesting_ things under the cover of darkness, the shuddering breath of nature staged an invasion of every poorly insulated home and place of business within its infinite reach. The breeze flowed far beyond the city's walls and into the plains and mountains beyond.

La'Fahir was the very definition of remote. The city wasn't marked on any map and was far removed from any major city or trade route. Despite that, it was without question one of the most important locales on earth. The case could be made that the very survival of humanity hinged on the mere existence of this place. Because of its importance, the world's lack of awareness of the city was by design rather than a product of neglect. Only a select few individuals wielding extreme political power or absolute authority knew of its existence, and their pact of silence on the matter was considered absolute. With non-existent human traffic, dangerous geography, labyrinthine traps and a tremendous amount of magical power being applied to its protection La'Fahir was arguably the safest place on earth.

However; within its walls, the highly secure nature of the city was an invisible fact of life. The populace lived in a peaceful synergistic manner with the land and serious conflict was almost unheard of, ironic considering what the purpose of this city was. Furthermore, the lifestyle of the citizenry stood in stark contrast with the place they called home.

La'Fahir superficially seemed to be a relic from some forgotten era. The architecture was foreign to any contemporary builder's design language and each home was filled to bursting with priceless art and jewelry, the finest foods and furniture crafted to the highest standards. Though some of the possessions of the town's citizenry had been handed down through the generations, most of it had been garnered within the lifetimes of the current home owners through mysterious means. The La'Fahirans lived lives that straddled the boundaries of decadence and simplicity, a contradiction that they were well aware of. It was after all only within the preceding two decades that their barebones city had begun its transformation into the world's most decadent military base.

However, that is a history to be told another time.

A few miles away from La'Fahir a lone figure was perched on a cliff. Said person was resting with a single leg dangling over the cliff's edge, and the other was propping up a comfortably resting right arm. Long raven locks swayed in the wind, nostrils flared as oxygen was greedily absorbed, and eyes were closed in calm rapture as said figure seemed to relish the coming downpour. By this mysterious person's side lay two objects. One was a half empty ornate oak basket of edible goods on the left. And to the right lay a large unidentified object propped up against a young tree hanging over the cliffs' edge.

"What a wonderful atmosphere..."

The swelling rumble of thunder drew nearer, accompanied by the clean scent of rain. Gradually, the chaotic orchestra's booming octaves merged and expanded till they cradled the valley in an ancient soundtrack heard by every generation of every life form to have ever inhabited this world. The intense staccato of nature's lifeblood dawned over the peaks of the mountain range on the eastern side of La'Fahir, marking the storms final approach to the town.

The figure on the cliff inhaled deeply, feeling a near spiritual bond to the darkened skies. Depending on your perspective, storms were either a wondrous part of nature's cycle or terrifying events to be avoided at all costs. For this particular person however, the storms may as well have been an extension of their very being.

For this person, the moment was bittersweet. This may very well be the last time they'll get to experience such an event.

More importantly, for this person; they had no idea if they would ever view this valley again.

The sound of crunching leaves marked the approach of another unidentified figure and spoiled the morning of the resting figure.

Silence filled the gap between the two figures and the resting figure could almost feel the aura of remorse before any words were exchanged.

"We have to leave."

A beat.

"Do you think... things will be different next time? I really don't want to be idle for so long..."

"... We have to be. You know what's at risk."

Sigh

"I know, I know... but still..."

"Yes... but be mindful that no one else can do... or even know of this... It is painful, i'll give you that. But this is a duty we have to fulfill for the greater good. We will shoulder the burden for everyone Think of this... as a sign of mankind's s faith in your abilities if you have to. Or a confirmation of everyone's trust in us..."

Shuffling was heard as the person resting on the cliff rose to their full height and retrieved everything they had brought with them.

One last gaze seared the image of La'Fahir into memory.

"Yeah... Well... there's no point in putting this off any longer. Let's go."

It was a simple storm, like any other.

But unnoticed in any future history book, this storm would mark the closing of an era.

The winds of change indeed.

At exactly eleven thirty seven PM, the two figures vanished.

**xxxxxxxxxxBreakxxxxxxxxxx**

"Wh...where are you dad..."

Barely audible mumblings spilled from the chapped lips of a fitfully resting young boy. Desperate visions roiled through his mind as echos of the past melded into mocking tones.

This child had been wandering the land, searching high and low for his missing adoptive father.

You would think a legendary two hundred foot long, hundred ton, crimson hued, fire breathing winged creature would be almost impossible _not _to find. However, with every town he visited and every stranger he asked it seemed to the young fire-breather that this impossibility was a horrifying reality. No matter where he went no-one had ever seen or heard of dragons outside of old tales and the occasional epithet. To a child that had grown with one of these legendary beings, it was ludicrous to think that not _one _person had seen a dragon.

These thoughts plagued his waking mind, and visions of his father alongside indistinct, shadowy figures stalked his dreams.

As he slept, leaves broke beneath his writhing form, mud seeped into tattered clothing and the steady drum of raindrops pattered the exposed expanses of his pale flesh.

In short, the child was a mess.

His hair was matted and strewn with debris, his body littered with scars, and the healthy glow that ordinarily be flush on a child's skin was completely absent.

It was in this state that he was found, completely by chance; by an middle aged witch with a crown of pink tresses.

The aging healer could not help the dull ache of pity thrumming away in her soul caused by the child's appearance.

Kneeling with practiced grace the woman gingerly turned the boy from his side to his back and couldn't help the grim air that overcame her. Her normal contemptuous scowl worn in the presence of others of her species was totally absent, replaced with genuine worry. Regardless of her misgivings with humanity she could _not _leave a helpless child in such a state in good conscience.

Sighing deeply, the healer gathered the young dragon slayer and cradled him to her body. She tried to ignore the developing knot in her stomach when she noticed how light he was. To her surprise, she could also feel a well of magic within the child that was far too large for any ordinary boy. However, even that felt weak and far too low to be healthy.

Love of privacy be damned, she had to get this child to her hut immediately.

However, before she could rise the prick of something sharp in the hollow of her jugular stilled her nurturing movements.

Yes, this pink-haired youth was indeed in a terrible state... but he was _not _alone.

"What... do you think you're doing?"

The voice that reached the pink-haired healer's ears was suspiciously raspy and young-sounding. She immediately knew that whoever was threatening her, was likely a child as well.

"I want to help this boy. I intend to take him to my hut and heal his wounds. I want to return him to good health. His body will not hold up like this for very long."

She spoke lowly and calmly, preferring to handle this with words though she could easily protect herself if need be.

Silence stretched for several long moments.

"Why? Why are you helping him? What do you want?"

"Why?... It's what any decent person would do. Do I need a reason to help a child in need?"

"... As I understand it, kindness does not come without a price."

"...A smile."

"...Excuse me?"

"I want a smile. Once he's better."

What felt like an eternity bereft of words and filled with tension passed between the two figures. Just as she was about to speak, the figure behind her spoke.

"Fine."

The pressure of the sharp point against her neck lessened ever so slightly.

"I will allow you to take him. But he goes nowhere without me. Is that understood?"

The mysterious assailant's tone was guarded, but the hostility that had been present only moments ago was but a memory.

The well meaning woman gave a curt nod, rising with her precious cargo and turning to regard the figure that had been threatening her,

The near-silent gasp that slipped from her was almost impossible to hold back.

The boy that her gaze settled upon could not have been more than a year or two older than the one she cradled in her arms. But whereas the boy she held looked like he simply needed a few meals and a bath, the one she was staring at looked like he was on the brink of death.

The first thing she noted, besides his dirty frost-white hair; was how thin he was. The curvature of the bones that upheld his frame were clearly visible beneath pale skin. His emerald pupils were dull and the capillaries carrying the ingredients of life were visible in what should've been the whites of his eyes. Oddly enough, reddish-pink markings were beneath each of his eyes along with twin dots set roughly an inch apart in the middle of his forehead. She filed that away for questioning later, she had a feeling those marks carried some significance.

In one hand, pieces of fruit were clutched by trembling fingers and in the other what appeared to be a crudely sharpened stone was bound to a short stick by fraying twine. Like the boy in her arms, she could sense that he too was a mage, though his magic felt _off. _Whereas the pink-haired child's was merely low, the magic in this white-haired boy felt sluggish and sputtering.

Something was terribly wrong, and she had to get both of these children within her hut immediately.

She knelt, shifting the pink-haired child she held to her left side and opened her right arm in a beckoning motion.

The white-haired boy simply slowly stared blankly from her open arms, to making eye-contact with the elderly witch. A wary frown marred his otherwise expressionless features. Physical needs eventually overcame hesitation, and he slowly trod forward on unsteady legs. He nearly collapsed into the helpful woman's arms, and she carefully picked the two boys up.

Making her way back to her isolated home in the woods, the misanthropic witch couldn't help but wonder how such a dreary, but ordinary; day had turned into work for her. She sighed, and carefully made her way through the natural debris and pondered who exactly the boys were.

Deciding her questions could wait, she set her mind towards thoughts of how exactly she'd test for maladies, injuries and whatever else needed to be taken care of. After they were healed, she'd have plenty of time to find out why the young ones had been on there own in the first place.

**xxxxxxxxxxEndxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N: **I'd love to hear your thoughts as this story progresses. Whether it's measured opinions, praise, or "Fuck you Roses of Yuushi!" It's better than silence :) Your reviews are what keep me motivated. Aside from that, Natsu will have a harem in this story. Though i'm going through great pains to not have it come off as the cliché (everybody loves the irresistible protagonist and acts completely out of character to get in his pants) theme. Or the predictable (guy saves girl, girl loves him forever) set-up that it seems like EVERY SINGLE FIC relies on. The only author that can pull that off without being cheesy is Evil Fuzzy, whom I have enormous respect for since he makes no effort to hide his raunchiness and makes clear _exactly _what his stories are about.


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